Seeing Red
by NerdsFromWonka
Summary: Cassandra's met a lot of killers in her life, so why is this one so different?


**Title**: Seeing Red

**Rating:** T for the use of curse words and mild graphics

**Characters:** Batgirl (Cassandra Cain), Red Hood, and Batman. Mention of Oracle.

**Summary**: Cassandra's met a lot of killers in her life, so why is this one so different?

**Notes:** Might have murdered the time frame but I don't care, also tried to make it as IC as possible.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any rights to these characters, their DC's, yadda, yadda.

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><p>Cassandra Cain, the newest Batgirl, one of Batman's "weapons". It bothered some people to be referred as a weapon, but she was use to it, that's what she had been born to be—a weapon. It was different being Batman's weapon though, she was helping people in the only way she knew how. Fighting. It came so naturally to her, the way her body moved with devastating grace. It had unnerved more than a few people, even if they did not admit it, she could tell by their body language. That was okay though, she was saving lives—she always felt so free when she was out as Batgirl, because she was no longer Cassandra Cain, no longer the daughter of the assassin David Cain…she was apart of Batman, and everything he stood for, and it made what she had done to that man all those years ago almost bearable. Even after fighting Shiva, even after her death and coming back to life, her guilt never fully went away, it was always there, eating away at her like maggots feasting on dead flesh.<p>

That's why she fought so hard. She could not change the past, but the future was a different story.

The gun shots were the first thing to alert Cassandra, body perking and eyes narrowing behind her mask, movements fast and fluid toward the sound, easily jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Several scenarios where already running through her mind, a mugging gone wrong, a bad drug trade, or maybe it was just a lunatic waving a gun around. The possibilities seemed endless in Gotham, and she could only hope no one had gotten killed, after all, injuries healed, but death? Well, that was usually more permanent…usually.

It did not take her long to reach her destination, stopping only to peer into the dark alley, preparing to size any enemies up, but there were none, only too motionless lumps in the darkness.

Her cape fanned out slightly as she leaped down, landing airily on the pavement, two bodies lying before her, both male. Scouring the area, she spotted two abandoned handguns a few feet away, silently stalking toward them and delicately picking the revolvers up, head tilting slightly as she inspected them. Neither one looked like they had been fired, and she could not smell gunpowder on them—flipping the chambers open, she noted that they were both fully loaded. Whoever did this had obviously gotten the drop on them. Turning her attention toward the bodies, she side-stepped the puddles of blood, crouching down next to one of the men and lifting up his wrist. She could feel the heat from his body seeping through her batsuit, but there was no pulse beneath his still rosy flesh. Releasing his hand, she got her first good look at their faces, grimacing at the amount of bruising and blood she saw. Somebody had beaten them before shooting them point blank in the head, and whoever did was strong, the blows had been hard enough to break bones, and from the looks of it, they had.

The distant sirens brought her out of her thoughts, body jerking toward the road, before glancing back toward the two downed males. After a moment, she stood, calmly disappearing into the shadows before anyone could spot her. Cassandra did not like dealing with the police, and even if she was associated with Batman, she doubted that the PDA would clear her of all suspicion. It was better to not be seen lurking around a crime scene. Besides, there was still a chance she could find the killer, after all how far could they have gotten? She did not see any tread marks, so there was a chance they were on foot, and if that was the case, she could still catch them.

Tonight must have been her lucky night, or maybe it was unlucky, Cassandra did not really feel like thinking about it too much. She could make out a husky voice grunting something, then hear the distinct sound of knuckles slamming into bone, followed by a gurgled howl of pain. Her movements were quick, precise, the attacker had no way of seeing her coming as she suddenly plowed her heel into his side. He released a surprised grunt, hands moving to dive into his jacket pockets, but she landed another kick on his chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling onto his back as his victim slid to the ground, face a bloody mess. He could not even hold his head up properly, instead it lolled awkwardly to the side, and from his body language, she was sure he had fallen unconscious.

The small pause she had taken was just enough time for the killer to regain his bearings slightly, though he was clutching his chest painfully as he sat up, dazed. Cassandra recognized him immediately, that red mask unmistakable. Batman had mentioned the Red Hood before, he had always told her to steer clear of him, but here she was, directly disobeying him, even if it was by accident. Still, she was…interested to know why she was supposed to stay away from him, after all she had just beaten him easily. Why was he so special? More important things to worry about she mentally scolded herself.

"Those men…did you kill them?" Batgirl demanded harshly, causing his chin to lift slightly, and even with his face covered she could tell he was smirking. He found this whole thing funny in some sick twisted way, she could tell.

"What do you think, babe?" He wheezed out in reply, stumbling to his feet now, though not before nearly falling over again, using a nearby dumpster to help steady himself.

"Yes." The injuries on the man he had been using as a personal punching were consistent with the wounds on the other two men. She could tell he had hit them with that same kind of unadulterated rage, but where did it come from?

"Shit you kick hard," he grunted, giving his chest one last rub before lowering his hands, though both of them knew he was going to have a bruise there later.

"Why?"

His posture changed, and he looked confused for a moment, before relaxing slightly, as if he understood the question without needing further explanation. "They deserved it," he said simply, but that was not enough for Cassandra, her gaze narrowing slightly. He surprisingly caught the action. "They were trying to rape a girl, she was probably fifteen at the oldest. What kind of sick asshole does that to a kid? This bastard managed to sneak off while I was taking care of his friends, so thought I'd pay him a little visit," he spat, gesturing toward the beaten man, who's breathing was becoming more and more labored. "This isn't the first time, either. There's been a string of young women being raped and murdered in this area, and since Batman hasn't had the balls to take care of it, I did."

She could see the ire in him, even now talking to her he was angry. He had no remorse for what he did, in fact he seemed proud of himself, convinced what he had done was right. Yet, he was not like the other maniacs she had met before, there was something different about him, he was…sad, too, not for killing those men, but something had happened to make him like this. It almost made her feel bad for him, but it was hard to excuse the fact that he was a murderer.

She frowned.

"What? Going to take me in? Call Batman?" He taunted, and her expression softened marginally.

"No."

He was surprised, though it was soon replaced with disbelief. He thought she was lying.

"I'm sorry," Batgirl added, her expression changing into one of sorrow behind her mask, and Red Hood seemed stunned for a few beats. "What?" he snapped abruptly, obviously not understanding the apology, or the sympathetic stare he was receiving. "For what…happened to you…whatever it was," she continued gingerly, her tone wholly sincere, and the male looked uncomfortable now, unsure how to react. "Yeah…well, so am I," he grunted in reply, tone sombre. He could not tell if he liked her or not.

Both of them fell silent for a few moments, the only noise the rapists wheezing as he tried to breathe through his broken nose.

Surprisingly, it was Cass who spoke up first. "Leave." It wasn't a request.

"Or what?" Red Hood countered challengingly, shifting his weight onto one foot, finger twitching slightly, still undecided of his next move. "You'll kill me?" he added as an after thought, although Cassandra could tell he did not really believe she would. "I don't kill," she replied placidly, hearing an audible snort from behind that red hood of his. "I don't…lose, either." Her tone was serious. If she had too, she would take him down, but…he could change, she wanted him to change. Maybe he just needed a chance, like her.

"Ooh, feisty, I like that," he grinned, but his posture had become passive, and the female felt relief flood her as he straightened his jacket out, spinning around on his heel, pausing for a moment to glance back at her. "I'll see you around, babe, and next time you won't sneak up on me." He raised two fingers to his brow, giving her a half salute over his shoulder, his body language oozing with cockiness, before starting forward, the shadows engulfing him, and soon she could only make out his faint footsteps in the distance.

Slowly, she reached up to her comm., finger pressing into it. "…Oracle?"

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><p>Cassandra hardly ate anything that night, instead throwing on some sweat pants and a sports bra before making her way to the training room. Her mind was still muddled with what happened. She had released a killer, she let him get away, and that meant if he killed again, the burden would be on her shoulders. For some reason though, she could not bring herself to take him in…she knew what happened to murderers. They were killed, the gas chamber, electric chair, lethal injection, and in a way, she felt responsible for their deaths, too, so it seemed like there was no way for her to win.<p>

Unless she could change him—people changed all the time. Red Hood was not all bad, he was…hurt, wounded, felt like he had to do what he did, like it was the right thing to do. He was…confused. She had helped people before, so maybe it was not too late, everybody deserved a second chance.

So lost in thought, she was hardly paying attention to her training, mindlessly hitting the dummy's in a leisure manner (at least for her), but when a hand curled around her ankle, stopping the next blow in its tracks, she jerked slightly, head swiveling to look at the intruder. Her muscles relaxed when the tall figure released her foot, a deep frown etched into his face, his posture disapproving. Straightening out, she regarded him with a tiny grimace, already aware she was in some sort of trouble. "Batman," she greeted quietly, though her tone lacked that happy note it usually had when he came to visit her. They both knew what this was about.

"Oracle tells me you've had contact with Red Hood." He does not even bother to return her greeting, his voice deep and gravelly, body looming over her ominiously.

"Didn't know it was him," she replied honestly, arms crossing over her chest, chin tilting up to get a better look at him. He was still vibrating with discontent, and Cassandra felt a pang of guilt swell up in the pit of her stomach. "I'm sorry."

"Oracle also told me he escaped. How?" Her head flew up, staring at him for a long moment, before it fell again, staring hard at the ground. An awkward silence filled the room, but she could still feel Batman's intense gaze boring into her. It made her uncomfortable—she did not want to lie, but she could not tell the truth, so instead she opted to avoid the question all together. "Who is the Red Hood?"

Obviously that was the wrong thing to say, because Batman turned on his heel, cape sweeping behind him airily, not even bothering to glance back at her. "You are suspended from Batgirl until further notice. No exceptions," his tone was cold and Cassandra flinched slightly, though knew better than to argue, turning her back to him as she clenched her fists, face darkening.

He didn't trust her.

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><p>Uh, the end? I got nothing.<p> 


End file.
